Some Teal, Some Blue & A Blonde
by Eomara
Summary: Set after episode "Stan By Me", and continuing from story "Number Five". Marshall does what he can to provide comfort to Mary after being rescued. Little does Mary know that her companionship is just what Marshall needs too.


She kept her head firmly tucked against his shoulder as he led her out of that drug dealer's basement and house. Stan was steadily supporting her on the other side, but Marshall held her closest and she certainly wasn't falling into Stan's arms. He could feel the nervous shakes that were wracking through her, although they was more time between them the further they got away from her imprisonment.

As they stepped out of the house, they paused momentarily while Stan was barking out orders. Marshall quickly shouldered off his suit jacket and draped it over his partner. The dirt-streaked tank tops were not enough protection in the cool of the night. For the few seconds she wasn't in his arms she looked entirely too vulnerable for his liking. It wasn't what he was used to, it was his Mare standing in front of him, but the dirt smeared on her face, and her hair plastered with sweat…well, it wasn't the woman who snapped and snarked at her witnesses.

"Mare." His voice had cracked to an octave or two deeper, he was overwhelmed at having her back but equally upset that he hadn't been there to defend her while she had been chained to the post. His quick glance around the dank basement told him all. "Mare," and she looked up, that exhausted glare in her eyes just beginning to soften, "give me your wrists."

She held up her hands and he easily worked the chain and restraints off, the skeleton key he kept on hand finally being helpful. He let them drop on the ground and she kept her eyes off them. He looked up when her hand closed around his wrist and tightened briefly.

"Mare?"

"Can we…car?" She didn't want to be in view of everyone, and he nodded quickly, bringing her under his arm. They walked to the car and she crossed her arms, pulling the lapels of his suit jacket over her shoulders a bit tighter.

She let herself be bundled into the standard federal black SUV and Marshall slid in right behind her, letting her return to her safe haven under his arm. Mare wasn't sniffling, she was no longer shivering, and just sighed heavily against him. His right hand rested against her shoulder and pulled her closer. He was doing his best not to think of that item number five on her dashboard list, but it had slipped up in his mind, a smoky tendril that snaked it's way back into existence. He rested himself against her as well, his mouth and nose propped up against her head. Marshall alternated between resting the front of his face on her and his cheek.

There was the smoky, acrid smell of gunpowder, laced with sweat and blood that permeated his nose. He didn't care, Mare was there, safe and sound. His eyes fluttered close for a moment and she mumbled something against his shirt. He looked down, leaning back slightly to see her. Her blonde hair contrasted nicely against his shirt and he smiled, almost giddy with the feel of her against him. Alive, safe, sound and warm. He did his best not to imagine her blonde hair against his bare chest, but he'd be content with the image of streaky blonde against his shirt.

"I'm sorry Mare, what did you say?"

"I said your shirt is soft. It's nice…even if it is teal." There it was, that ever present judgment. Must've been in hiding for a little while. He wished that it was the daytime, so he could fully appreciate her skin, hair and smell with the proper contrast.

"What's wrong with teal? Could be a dark green with a touch of blue?" He ventured, secretly hoping to be shot down.

"Uh, not really doofus. It's teal." She pulled back and leveled a soft glare at him. "Hey, any chance for a bottle of water around here?"

"Oh! Of course, one sec Mare." He leaned forward and grabbed a bottle from the front cup holder. He cracked it open and handed it to her. After a few swigs she took a deep breath and leaned against the seat.

"Any chance this teal-clad cub scout has a bandana?" The exhaustion was etched into her face, but his Mare was there, no matter what. He nodded and raised his hips slightly, fishing it from his back pocket. "Almost thought you were propositioning me there, Marshall." He was glad the car was darkened enough to cover his blush as Mare took the proffered bandana and upturned the bottle, dampening the cloth. He knew it was a dusty blue, but turned into navy when wet.

As she rubbed the dirt off her face and her hands, he watched quietly. She scrubbed against the skin of her hands, and while the bandana wasn't a harsh fabric, it wasn't silk either. The soft light that filtered through the darkened window was enough to show her pale hands turning slightly pink as she rubbed harder. Without words he reached over and rested his hand over both of hers, gently extracting the cloth and gathering it into his palm. Turning in his seat he encased her hands in his, letting the patterned cloth fall between them. The warmth generated by the cleaning was fading, but his own body heat compensated for that. Her head fell forward a bit and he leaned down to meet it, the crests of their hair touching. Welcoming the silence, they breathed together and Marshall knew it was going to be ok.

"Feels like this cub scout has bear paws. Christ, Marshall, how do you stay so warm?" She pulled her head away from his but her hands didn't move.

"Well-"

Their conversation was interrupted by Stan opening the car door. He was grumbling about something, and was too engrossed in that to see his two best agents spring apart as if they had been electrocuted. Mare glanced out the window on her side, and Marshall did the same, neither of them cutting Stan off mid-ramble. Marshall glanced at his partner, who had brought her hands back together, but holding his bandana between them.

"Hey! You two hear me? It's back to headquarters for now." He glanced back into the rearview mirror. Marshall nodded and hummed his affirmative. As the car pulled away, Mare went back and rested her head on his shoulder. Stan was busy watching the road, so Marshall took the risk and gently kissed the crown of Mare's head. She, dare he even think it, nuzzled against his shoulder a bit more. Well, Mare might not nuzzle, but she did get her way, so if she wanted her head more snug and secure against him, he wasn't going to put a fight.

"


End file.
